Bloduwedd's Journey
by Augusta Donnachaidh
Summary: The last Warrioress of her Clan, Bloduwedd must travel to find her distant kin.  The travel will lead her on a journey she never expected, in more ways than one.


**Bloduwedd's Journey**

I stood at the cliff top, watching the waves crashing against the rocks beneath me. Looking behind me, I saw a huge bonfire burning the last of its source. I wondered how my life had reached this point. I wanted desperately to dive down into those crashing waves and to feel my body crush against the sharp rocks, and then to feel nothing at all. Such finality intrigued me. I had no one left in this world. More than anything, I found myself thinking of the life after this one, about what would become of me. I felt wetness trickle down my cheek, only to realize my tears had freed from the prison I held them in. I did not want to cry. Only weak females cried. Not me. Not now. Not ever.

I retrieved my sword from where I had heaved it into the ground in my raging run to the cliff top to hurl myself over its edge and placed it back in the sheath draped across my waist. A single piece of black fabric wrapped around me, forming both a top and bottom to cover me properly. Over that, to protect me from the elements, I had a piece of wool wrapped around my waist and over my shoulder. Both pieces stopped short of mid-thigh. The wool had the colors of my Clan, my fallen fellow males and females that once made up my family. Their remains now burned in the fire. The smell of death filled the air. I retrieved my shield, hefting it up and across my chest to rest on my back. I reached one of my leather boots and then the other, replacing them on my feet. I do not know why I stopped from hurling myself into the Otherworld. I had gathered my courage and prepared myself. Reaching the edge of the cliff, though, I felt as though I had hit an invisible brick wall. I physically could not move further. I felt weak at that fact. Obviously, my lack of strength had kept me in this world, only to continue the torturing daily edifice of life.

I returned to the pile of weaponry I had retrieved from both sides of this fruitless battle. I sifted through them, deciding what I could and could not use in addition to what I would be able to carry. My horse had fallen, too, leaving only my leather soles to travel me further. I wrapped what I could carry in a piece of fur that had been a cloak for one of the fallen warriors. It reminded me only of the fact that I did not have the glory of falling in battle alongside my Clan. I wrapped a piece of leather around it, tying it off so that I could carry it across my back, alongside my shield. I made a careful effort to not hinder my reach to my sword or my shield in the case of when I would need them in my travels. My speed and my skill had kept me alive to this point, but I knew I would meet my match at some point in my travels.

I walked west, toward the Isle where perhaps I could find more of my Clan. The journey would take perhaps a moon cycle by foot, unless came upon a horse, in which case the journey would be shortened significantly. Epona had not blessed my horse, though, and I burned her remains with the rest of my family and their faithful steeds. With Her blessing, though, and with my goddess' Arianrhod's blessing, the journey would provide me with everything necessary to reach my family extensions. I could only hold hope that they would take me in as their own. Our bloodline of ancestry would be thick and their sense of that would be undeniable. My trust would remain in the goddess who had fashioned me. Arianrhod's love for me and her choice to have me as her Chosen had kept me alive thus far. My thoughts were selfish, though I tried to push aside the feeling of torment I held within myself.

As I walked, I heard light footsteps behind me. I felt them through from my feet up through my body before I heard them. I said a quick acknowledgement of thanks to Arianrhod for my Blessing of the Earth Affinity. The recognizable sound of a sword being unsheathed rang through my ears. I turned, by inhuman speed, my sword at the neck of the betrayer before even realizing I held it in my hand. The intruder had caught my claymore with his bare hand, blood trickling off of it. His bicep, flexed and trembling, kept my sword in place.

"I dunna mean you harm," he explained in his thick brogue. "I beg of you, drop your claymore."

I did as he asked; somehow believing him, though I knew his Clan alliance was not mine. His cut had gone deep. As I looked at him, I realized the noise I heard was him placing his swords back in their sheaths, which rested across his back in an 'x' formation. I felt slightly foolish, but I had to err on the side of self-protection.

I looked at him closely, rendered wordless. His black hair hung over his eyes. One eye peeked out and I could scarcely determine the iris of his eye from the rest of it. The eye I saw peered a whole through my body as deeply as I had cut his hand. He wore metal armlets which covered his forearms completely. His bare biceps led up to his metal chest cover. The tops of it spread over his shoulder, a proper design to protect his shoulders during battle. His boots went to his knees, revealing his pants only from waist to knee. Over the boots were metal covers, leading down to his ankles. No doubt he was a warrior, and a properly prepared one at that. The intricate patterns across the metal were something the likes of which I had never set eyes upon. Blood covered him. His face dirty face only amplified just how tired and weak this strong warrior was.

"Please," he begged again, out of breath. "I mean you no harm."

I looked at him, still wordless.

"I canna trust you," I admitted. "You're part of what killed my clan." The sadness in my voice surprised me. I was tired, too. In both spirit and body. I prayed of Arianrhod to help me in a decision to trust this man.

He fell to his knees, no longer able to stand. His head waivered, covered in sweat. I dropped my claymore and grabbed him to keep him from falling to the ground. I sat on my feet, my knees under him, propping up his weight as he looked up at me. His breathing was struggled, though he had no obvious injuries. I kept my thoughts on how he had taken part in killing my Clan. I could not feel anything for him. I had made a weak decision to catch him as he fell. I should have taken the opportunity to behead him and end his family as he had mine.

"You dunna have to save me, Warrioress," he said between struggled breaths. "Epona blessed my mare. She rests on the far edge of the forest. She is yours and will fair you well, Warrioress." His eyes closed slightly.

Though he seemed only to want to let me know I had a mount to take me to the Isle, I wondered more about him. Why would he do this for me?

"In what are you of need, Warrior?" I asked him, my voice frantic despite my will.

"Water," he replied. "Food and rest." He closed his eyes again. "You can take ma swords, too," he added. "Anathin' that would aid you."

I had never been in a moment of such indecision. It took only a moment, though. I reached in the bag on my hip and retrieved a leather skin filled with water. I propped him up further and held the skin to his lips, letting the water dribble into his dry mouth. He coughed at first, his throat surprised by the sudden intake of liquid. He sat up by his own will, slightly. He slowly drank my water. When he was able to hold the skin on his own, I reached cautiously into my bag again and retrieved dried meat my Clan had stocked for the travel to this deathland. I broke off pieces of it and took the waterskin back from him, putting the pieces of meat in his hand.

"Warrioress," he whispered. "You owe no life-debt to me. You dunna have to do this."

"I know, Warrior, but I canna let you die here," I explained. "Too many souls have already been claimed."

"Warrioress—"

"—Blodeuwedd," I corrected him. "I permit you to call me by my given name."

"Warrioress, I feel no honor. I canna call you by anathin' but Warrioress now," he paused. "Or Goddess," he added. "For your name indicates such."

I smiled. The muscles in my face ached because a smile had not crossed my face in more than a moon cycle. Goddess. Yes, I had been named for one. It was an honor my father gave me. He sat eyes upon me and said I must have been created from flowers because my beauty was so fair. I smiled again at that thought. It seems Blodeuwedd had agreed with that blessing, as she gifted me with her Affinity for Earth.

"Warrior, call me what you wish," I told him. I had never before permitted anyone to do such a thing. Indeed, I had always been seen as a Warrior Goddess. I had been Arianrhod's Chosen One, as my people had proclaimed. I heard her voice often and could not deny such an honor. Darkness had fallen upon us quickly. I did not care for this Warrior. I struggle with my decision to leave him where he lay.

_Help him_. My Godddess spoke to me. Her voice startled me. So much time had passed since I last heard it, that I had doubts of being her Chosen One. I thought perhaps she had left me. Something within my heart had told me to stay with her. I was hers, I could not walk away from her. _Do not leave him. He will heal quickly and help protect you. _"I dunna need protectin'," I told her. I rarely spoke against my Goddess' wishes, but my anger held me from caring for this fallen warrior. _I know, Treasured_. She had called me this endearing term since first I heard her voice, in my youngest of years. _He isn't as he seems, Chosen One. Heal him and trust him. _I could not refuse Her wishes, as much as my heart wanted to. I would feel more accomplished by leaving him to die alongside his Clan. Arianrhod had instructed me to burn his Clan's body with my own Clan in order to release them into the Spritworld. I had done it, despite my first attitude of unwillingness.

I prepared camp for us. The Warrior had departed slightly from his body. I knew he would return, after resting. I began a fire to warm us. The winds of the night had turned cold, while the day had been warmer. I removed the Tartan wool from around my waist, rolled it, and placed in under the Warrior's head to make him more comfortable. I had previously removed his swords, as he suggested. I laid them in between us, along with the binding of weaponry I had collected from the dead. My claymore remained at my side as I left the campsite in search of some healing plants. I had injured his hand beyond use. It would heal, too, I knew, but I felt obligation to aid it. Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and sent a call out to the Earth to help me find the medicinal plants I needed.

_This way, Earth Goddess_. This was not the voice of my Goddess, but I recognized the young voices of plants. Each living being on this Earth had an individual voice. Trees often had deeper, louder voices while plants, especially ripe young healthy varieties, spoke in high-pitched quiet voices. Things of the Earth always referred to me by a name including Goddess, the most generic and common of which was Earth Goddess. It encompassed all. _This way, Goddess_. I heard the young voice, hoping it would be the plant I needed. I recognized it as soon as I saw it. Yarrow plant. It would stop his bleeding and disinfect the wound. I gathered a few other herbs and plants that I knew would come in useful. I would dry them and store them for my journey.

When I returned to the camp, the Warrior still slept. He looked peaceful, despite his condition. I had removed his metal armor, setting it beside him. I did not think wearing it would aid in his healing. It was heavy on his body and tight. I bared his feet, too. He wore only his pants (I felt no need to remove those and did not wish to). His chest was bounding with muscles, as well as his stomach. His entire body was made of solid muscle. Warrior, most definitely, he had been from birth. I did not let my eyes linger upon him. My heart preoccupied itself with the grieving of my fallen Clan – at his hand. I struggled with the reasoning behind my Goddess' desire for me to help him.

After preparing the Yarrow, I took a piece of cloth I had torn from my clothing and wrapped the plant to his hand. A significant difference in the condition of his hand would be seen by morning. The plant had promised me. The young Yarrow plant knew what his job was. He knew he had to heal the warrior.

I removed my boots. I would not need them. I knew we were in no immediate danger. The Earth had told me this. It was safe to sleep, too. Earth promised she would wake me if she felt oncoming danger near us. I covered myself with the fur-animal skin that I had used to tie the weaponry together earlier. I pushed aside my remembrances of the day, of the people I loved, all dying at the hands of this Warrior's Clan. I asked Arianrhod to coax me into slumber. I needed rest. I needed to heal as well. _Rest well, Treasure. A new life begins for you tomorrow._

Stirring noises in the camp woke me. As I opened my eyes, I squinted from the bright morning sun. It was just after sunrise. The morning did not smell of death as the night had. This morning smelled fresh. I looked up to see the Warrior standing, on the other side of what had been last night's fire. I jumped up faster than he expected. He instinctively took a few steps back, lowering his stance slightly. He did not look as he had last night. I almost mistook him for another man. No blood or dirt stained his body. I looked up to his hair. It was not covered in tangles as it had been; instead it was wet and smoothed back out of his face. He had pulled a dark brown shirt on, and was tying it with a leather tie at the top. It had only short sleeves, falling just below the line of his shoulder. His leather boots were on and tied up to his knees. He looked at me, in just my black wrap – which covered only the essentials.

"Your Tartan is there," he told me, pointing beside me. "And I shalln't look if you wish to bath in the loch there," he added.

From the way his eyes traveled over me, I knew that bathing was necessary. I looked down at myself, scarcely able to see my fair skin underneath the layer of dirt and blood. My long red tresses hung down below my waist and the curls had turns to strands of thick rope-like hair. Of course I would not trust him on his word. I had no choice, though. I needed to refresh. I did not respond to him. I picked up my claymore, Tartan wool, and boots and walked down to the Loch. The hill dipped down from the campsite, so if he remained at the camp, he would not be able to see me. I stood at the edge of the Loch and unwrapped myself. The long black piece of cloth fell in a circle below me. I folded it quickly and placed it with my other things. I jumped into the water, using the sand of the Loch to scrub my hair and skin. Even as I did this, I felt eyes upon me. I doubted the Warrior had kept his word. I let that thought pass through and over my mind. He was a man and I doubted he had yet to see the naked skin of a woman, even one as beautifully sculpted as I. Arianrhod had sculpted me with Her special hands, of that I was certain.

After sufficiently clean, I stood up and walked out of the Loch. The water had invigorated me, giving me a renewed sense of the day, and thankfulness for the life my Goddess had spared me. I wrapped myself quickly in the black piece of cloth, covering with the additional layer of Tartan wool. I slipped on my boots, lacing them intricately up my legs. I secured my belt around my waist, sheathing my sword as I returned to camp.

The Warrior stood there, a brown horse at his side. The horse wore bags on either side, full of supplies, I hoped. He rubbed gently at his hand. The cloth and healing Yarrow plant no longer circled his hand. He held his hand up for me to see.

"You healed me quickly," he said. He held it closer, revealing only a deep purple scar, as though it had happened ages ago. I silently thanked the young plant for serving its purpose. I smiled in acknowledgement, not knowing what else to do.

The Warrior had cleaned up the camp, scattered the remains of what had been the camp fire. It looked as though no one had even been there. Obviously, he was skilled in traveling without desire for being followed. I noted that his swords were returned to his back, in the same x-formation as the day before. I wondered if he could claim those swords as fast as or faster than I my claymore. He had rewrapped the weaponry in the fur, as I had done the previous day. He had it sitting on the ground beside the horse. I knew that he had purposely not loaded it on to the horse. He did not want to assume that I would be traveling with him or want me to consider him a thief of what I had obviously claimed as my belongings.

"My horse is yours," he told me. "She's a good mare and will fare you well in your travels." My presumption had been we would be traveling together, though thinking back upon it, I do not know why I thought that to be the right path. "And I have packed her for your travels, Warrioress."

_Do not honor his gift_. My Goddess' voice sounded different today. _This mare belongs to Leucetios. She is my blessing to him. _The voice of Epona. I was not her Chosen, but often I had the honor of hearing Her voice. The voice was softer and more gentle than the loving voice of my Goddess, always as though Her embrace filled the space around me. _This gift is not his to offer, Treasured_. Arianrhod's voice filled my mind, as though the two Goddesses stood side by side instructing me on how to move through this path of my life.

"This mare—" I stuttered a bit as my Goddess' voice filled in the blanks of my sentence. "Caireen," I repeated Arianrhod's prompt, "was Chosen for Leucetios as a gift from Epona to Grannos, the God who Chose him and watches o'er him." I spoke the words, not truly understanding them. _He is Leucetios_, my Goddess told me. _Named for the God of War, but Chosen by Grannos, God of Healing._ "So much to take in at once, Goddess," I spoke back to her, too quiet for the Warrior to hear. _This matters, Treasured_. I understood her, doing my best to understand my place and my importance.

"You, Leucetios," I spoke to him. "_Your_ mare, a gift from Epona to Grannos, who bestowed her upon you."

"How would you know of this, Warrioress?" he asked. The look in his eyes was that of true amazement. Perhaps he had only spoken the words earlier when he referred to me as a Goddess, or perhaps he did not recall that conversation.

"It is the truth," I said. He did not need to know my Goddess' voice told me these things. She would have instructed me to tell him, otherwise.

"Aye, the truth, but ne'er had I ever told anyone that, Warrioress," he said. He continued to rub gently at his hand, as though he were massaging away the remainder of the scar. He smiled, letting his head fall back in a gentle, rumbling laugh. "Aye, the Goddess spoke to you," he said. He knew. Perhaps Grannos spoke to him as well. I did not know about everyone's experiences with their Goddesses and Gods, but I knew mine was close. I was her Chosen and she constantly reminded me of her choice. He took a deep breath, his eyes returning to mine. "What shall I owe to you then, Warrioress?"

"No life-debt do you owe me, Warrior—" my Goddess' voice cut me off sharply. _Accept him as your Consort, Treasured._ Consort? I needed to one to protect or guide me. I knew where I planned to travel, and most importantly I was born to protect myself. _Accept him as your Consort, Treasured._ My Goddess repeated the words to me. I looked at him with closer eyes. As I stepped nearer to him, I had to adjust my head to peer up in to his light eyes. He was of formidable structure and no doubt a terror to many. I imagined members of my Clan falling to his swords, the very ones that he seemed to offer to protect me. I did not need protection, I reminded myself. I was born a Warrioress. My Goddess repeated her same words, this time with a hint of annoyance in her kind voice. _Accept him, Treasured._ She wanted this Warrior as my companion for this journey. I would trust her, as always I had.

"Why did you not take my life when had the chance you did?" I asked him. The idea had imprinted upon my brain. For all of my knowledge, I could not understand why a Warrior would not kill me – an enemy to his Clan. Did he have no allegiance? If not, would he ever? Again, I could not doubt my Goddess' instructions. She would never put me at harm. I remembered the way that all of my Clan died at my sides, yet She had Chosen me to lead on. Alone. Yet, in the same way, she had brought Leucetios to me.

"Grannos told ma to spare you," he replied, simply.

"I killed many members of your Clan," I reminded him. As we spoke, we unconsciously circled one another. He was as ready for his swords as I my claymore.

"Aye," he said. His eyes locked on mine.

"You follow your God honorably, then, Warrior," I said.

He shook his head in acknowledgement without saying anything. His head was bowed slightly to look at me. A slight breeze blew, blowing his scent through my being. He smelled clean, of the Loch. Beyond that, though, he smelled like someone I had never before smelled. The aroma lightened my head, causing me to sway backwards slightly. He instantly leaned forward and caught me in his arms, anticipating that I might fall to the ground. My strength had weakened. I feared he had done that to me; feeling such a way was uncommon of me.

"You're in need of food, Warrioress," he stated. He had not let go of his grip on me. I gently shook my head in acknowledgement. "Do you have your heading?" he asked.

"West," I said. It came out as a weak whisper. He looked around, as though he did not know the direction of West. I pointed towards my heading. The Earth always told me where I needed to go. _She always will_, Treasured.

"Do you have the strength to mount Caireen?" he asked me, nodding towards his mare. I shook my head in acknowledgement. He let go of his grip only slightly, hoisting me up onto the beautiful mare. She responded to me, standing up straighter. She was prepared for the journey. She began walking along behind Leucetios. He did not need to direct her; she knew exactly where he was at all times. I wondered how she had remained so (seemingly) calm the previous night without him near her.

As the path widened, he walked alongside the mare rather than in front. He seemed to be keeping his eyes close on me, weary that I might waiver again. His hand seemed ready to catch me. His ability as a Warrior would mirror his hunting abilities. I knew he would find game for us easily. I did not want to depend upon him, but suddenly it seemed as though I needed to. I had cared for him the previous night. Perhaps Grannos and Arianrhod knew that we needed one another.

I lost consciousness at that point, and my next memory was a smell. The smell of meat being cooked over an open fire. I opened my eyes to see the Warrior on one knee, tending to the meat. I sat on the ground, reclined against my Tartan wool and another blanket of some sort, as though I had been carefully placed there. The corners of his worried eyes lifted. His mouth formed a smile.

"Warrioress!" he rushed to me, stumbling purposefully to my side. "You caused me great worry, Warrioress." He looked over to the fire. "Meat's almost ready," he added. He reached next to me and lifted the skin filled with water to my lips. I took in as much of it as I could before I needed to take a breath. "You're weak, Warrioress," he said, the worried eyes returning. He hurried back to the meat, which seemed to be ready. He lowered it onto a stone and began cutting it with a knife he retrieved from his boot (I noted the knife's location). He put pieces of it onto a make-shift plate and brought it to me. The aroma of it made my mouth water. The taste of the meat filled my stomach, making it ache for more. I knew the amount he put on my plate would be enough to fill me and return some of my strength.

"Eat for yourself as well, Warrior," I reminded him. He returned to the meat and prepared a make-shift plate for himself. He watched over me closely; I recognized that it was worry and not fear. Most men of enemy Clans would fear me. Not this one though. This Warrior had no fear. _Of anything_. A male voice spoke inside my head. The voice was strong and calm. I had heard the voice of my Goddess my entire life. Other Goddesses had spoken to me as well, but never before had I heard the voice of a God. Grannos. I did not need to guess, I knew this God's name. I wondered why he felt the need to add that detail to my thoughts of his Chosen One. _He has never sworn a Warrior's Oath to any female._ I heard my Goddess say, as though she were conversing with Grannos_. A Warrior's Oath is only meant to be sworn to one female in His life_. The male voice returned. A Warrior's Oath? I had never heard of such a title. I knew that a Warrioress rarely swore an Oath or Handfasted with any man. A Warrioress generally had more strength than a man, and more independence than an ordinary female; therefore a Coupling with her was uncommon. Warriors often swore an Oath to a female, generally just to one at a time. He was bound to her by this Oath until the female freed him of it. By custom, Oaths were sworn solely to Gods, Goddesses, or Incarnates. Customs varied, though. Many Clans made their own regulations on such matters. My Goddess had never spoken to me of such things. Perhaps she felt my young age limited me to make such long-standing decisions.

'What does all this mean?' I silently asked my Goddess.

_Later, Treasured, later._ She spoke the words as though she were encouraging me and at the same time silencing Grannos.

After eating the meat he had prepared for us, he again cleared the camp site, making it look as though we had never been there. In one swift movement, he put me up on his mare, despite my irritation at his doing it. As Caireen walked along, I caught Leucetios glancing up at me occasionally. I knew his curiosity about me was most likely overwhelming him. Perhaps in his Clan, women weren't the leaders. Perhaps instead, he headed a male-dominated Clan. How strange that concept was to me! And I'm sure (if that were the case) that my entire being baffled him. He did indeed recognize me as a Warrioress rather than a Lady or a Goddess, so his knowledge of other Ways must have been educated.

I wondered how long my journey –_our_ journey—would take at this pace. Would he be able to walk long enough? All day for perhaps a moon cycle? I knew my own limits, but I knew nothing of the Warrior's.

An hour passed at this walking pace, droning on without a seeming end. The Warrior broke our silence.

"Might I offer a suggestion?" he asked.

"Aye," I answered with a nod of my head.

"If you permit me, I could mount Caireen as well and we could travel a wee bit faster," he said, looking up at me as we continued to walk.

I considered his suggestion. A gallop would certainly be nice and far less tedious. I knew his strong mare could handle the weight and speed for a good amount of time and distance. Additionally, Leucetios was attuned to his horse as though she spoke to him. And perhaps she did.

"I'm in agreement with you, Warrior," I told him. I fought the slight upwards curve of my lips. The idea of our bodies being so close both thrilled and repulsed me at the same time. I adjusted my seating as to allow him to mount Caireen in front of me.

Immediately and instinctively, I took hold around his broad chest, sliding my hands down to rest naturally around his waist. He encouraged Caireen along with a click of his mouth. She began to trot, as though warming herself up. She gradually sped her pace until we galloped along at an impressive pace. Her speed amazed me. She obviously was a gift from Epona, and blessed with Her touch. The power of her strength beneath me made me feel stronger myself. At the same time, though, every inch of the front of my body was in contact with Leucetios, making me feel slightly weaker; and also, somehow, I felt as though I were betraying my Clan . I wanted desperately to let go of him, but Caireen's power locked me in place.

Just as the rhythm of her gait had drifted me into a trance of sleepiness, I heard a voice within my head. The deep voice of an old tree.

_Caution, Earth Goddess_.

I sat up straight, looking around with a Warrioress' eye. In response to my action, the Warrior automatically slowed his mare's pace, looking around the forest with his own cautious eyes.

"What do you see, Warrioress?" he whispered in his deep, brooding voice.

"Not yet, Warrior. A voice spoke to me, warning me, " I told him.

"Warning of what matter?" he asked.

"I dunna know," I said.

We both continued to look around as Caireen slowed her gait to a walk. She, too, seemed tense and aware of something suspicious.

With a flip, Leucetios dismounted his horse with invisible sleep, unsheathing his swords as he flipped in the air. Within seconds, three men were on him and I heard the clanging of sword upon sword. I, too, dismounted – too quickly for the men to see. Their vision did not catch me until my claymore rested upon the neck of one of the three men.

"STOP!" yelled the Warrior, just as I prepared to lean in and slice open the man's neck. All motion ceased. My arm trembled with desire to finish the action which I had begun. My heart raced. I looked at him with eager anticipation of an explanation. "They are of my Clan, Warrioress," he explained, out of breath. "I shall choose their fate."

I held my claymore up, taking a few steps back. My expression seemed to frighten him. With three swift moves, all three men's throats bled their life from them. I backed away quickly, not turning my back on the Leucetios until I was on the other side of the mare. I sheathed my claymore and ran, running at the inhuman speed of which my Goddess had gifted me. My breaths came easily, my heart beat steadily, and I felt as though I could continue the pace non-stop.

_Run no further, Treasured_. Few times had I ignored my Goddess' words. This time I did. I continued my sprint through the forest. I heard her repeat the words, this time louder inside my head. I continued to disobey her. I felt as though she were leading me into a trap, or as though she were some form of Evil, using my Goddess' voice. _STOP!_ Her voice reverberated through my mind, deafening me . . . . as I ran, at full pace, into the Warrior.

"Danna run, Warrioress." He spoke the words calmly, steadying me with his strong arms. I jerked my arms free from his touch, looking up at him in disbelief.

_You are safe, Treasured_. Arianrhod ceased my thoughts of flight. I looked around, expecting to see the three rogue members of his Clan. My hand rested upon the handle of my claymore.

"Explain yourself quickly then, Warrior, or these words shall be your last," I warned him. I tightened my readied grip on my claymore.

"I knew nothing of whether they were alive, Warrioress," he quickly explained. His breathing was not labored. I wondered how he had run in front of me so easily. "They must have remained in the forest whilst the rest of the Clan battled."

"I dunna trust your words, Warrior," I told him. He looked down to my hand where it sat upon my claymore.

He reached to cover my hand with his, gently. His eyes locked upon mine. "Trust my words, Warrioress. I mean you no harm," he said. "If dead I wanted you, dead you'd be." He flashed me the hint of a devious smile.

"Death scares me not, Warrior," I told him.

"Then what scares you, Maiden?" he asked, his hand lingering upon mine.

_Maiden?_

What did scare me, after all? He did not scare me. The three men, or lasses, did not scare me. I could not remain with him, though, not after this news. If there were three survivors of his Clan, there would be more. How much more of my killings could he bare? Why did he allow me to kill them? Perhaps he did not allow me, but rather I did it before he could stop me. Why did he not kill me now?

"What is your purpose, _Man_?" I asked him.

I wanted to lessen his Status as he had mine. I noticed him cringe at the manner in which I spoke the word.

"I'm to aid you, Warrioress," he said. His irritation at this seemed to overwhelm any other emotion he attempted to convey. His touch on my hand ceased.

"Aid me?" I repeated.

"Aye," he said. He held his head, as though the news were grim. "It is the Command of my God, Grannos," he added.

I could scarcely believe that he would have the faith to follow a God that told him to journey with a Warrioress who had not only killed many members of his Clan, but murdered three of them in front of him after he pleaded for her not to. What sort of man could do that? I knew that I would have been more likely to turn from my Goddess than follow such trying instructions.

"I dunna know why He commands it, but I am his Chosen and I dunna argue when he instructs."

I heard the quiet snort of a horse and looked over to see Caireen slowly approaching us on her own. Leucetios did not need to look, he seemed to already know that she was following him. The mare walked straight up to me and positioned herself sideways to me, prepared for me to mount her. I quickly hoisted myself up before I had the opportunity to talk myself out of it. I did not say anything to him. I suspected that he knew my thoughts. My Goddess and his God had forced us into this Journey. He gently spoke to Caireen and she walked westward, somehow knowing our heading. She truly was a gift from Epona.

We rode silently. As much as I wanted to break the silence, there was nothing to say. I felt as though my Clan would disapprove to such a thing. If any member was still alive and saw me riding behind him on his mare, they would shake their head at me, and perhaps I would be stricken of my Status. Nonetheless, I tightened my grip around the Warrior's strong chest. At my complaint, he had removed the large metal chest piece he wore, leaving his soft cotton shirt for me to rest my head upon as Caireen galloped along. The metal armor fit into one of the bridle bags draped over the side of the mare. His swords remained at either side of him, sheathed into his belt. The leather straps across his chest remained, where he usually sheathed his swords in an 'x' pattern on his back. That would have been more uncomfortable than his metal armor for me to lean upon, though, so I was glad he had more than one way to sheath his swords. My claymore, of course, remained sheathed at my side, as it always would when in his company.

"Where is your village?" I asked him, leaning in closer to his back.

"Was," he corrected me.

"Only a wee bit north of yours, but we were attacked and everything burned to the ground," he answered, grimly. I let those thoughts set in.

I could not imagine such a thing. Even though my Clan had been attacked and all of its members moved on to the afterworld, the buildings remained. Had I the ability to prosper on my own, I most likely would have returned to my village. Remaining there would have proved difficult in many ways. Other than the way Death lingered there, I also lacked training in the ways of maintaining a garden and other necessaries for provisions during the winter. I laughed internally at that thought. I could bring down a small army, but I could not do what necessary to survive a rough highland winter. For that reason, I had immediately decided to seek out the extensions of my family on the Isle.

"What will you do when we reach our destination?" I asked him.

I could feel him breathe in and out deeply in response to my question. He did not know the answer to it. The plans for the next day were beyond his grasp, how could I ask him to predict a future of which he had no perception?

"I will do as my God instructs," he answered.

If my Clan extension would accept me, then they would accept Leucetios if I presented him as my mate. A trickle ran down through my spine, causing me to shed a slight shiver. I could not imagine being bound to one man, even if he were a Warrior such as Leucetios. A Warrioress, by rule, did not mate with one man. She chose her bedpartners as she wished, and changed them at a whim. I had yet to bring any man that pleasure or honor. I had become a Warrioress at a young age, and still found the idea fascinating theoretically. What plan did my Goddess hold for me? Practicing my patience proved to be an increasingly difficult task for me.

We traveled at an impressive pace. Caireen did not waiver, she continued as the road demanded. We stopped only for the call of nature and to water and give sustenance to ourselves and to the beloved mare. With Leucetios, it seemed, my desire for the Isle was not as urgent as if it had been in that short time I traveled alone. Other desires, though, grew stronger. Desires I really did not understand.

On the third day of our journey, the warmth of the day consumed me. I pleaded with the Warrior to stop near a small loch we came upon. It did not take much pleading, though, because he, too, had grown weary with the heat. Caireen needed shelter from the sun as well. As soon as I dismounted, I immediately unlaced my boots, throwing them to the side along with my tartan wool. Had I not been in the company of the Warrior, I would have stripped away my cloth wrapping as well.

I dipped my hands in the loch, wetting my hair to cool myself. I had waded in the water a bit to cool my swollen feet. After satisfied with that, I sat upon a boulder beside the loch, leaning back in the crevice of it. I stretched out my legs and rested my head backwards, closing my eyes from the brightness of the sun. I had paid no attention to the Warrior's actions, as I was so focused on cooling myself. I felt his eyes upon me and looked up. His silhouette formed against the bright sun behind him. He stood, as still as the rock I sat upon. I held my hand up to block the sun, bringing his image into focus.

"What is it, Warrior? Do you not wish to cool yourrself in the loch?" I asked. I did my best to keep my question light. I had grown tired of my uncharacteristic seriousness I portrayed around him. "Or are you a wee bit shy?" I teased. I felt as though the heat had traveled straight to my sanity, especially when his face did not falter. He remained a stone amongst the lochside. I sat up a slight bit, eyeing him more closely. "Warrior?" I said.

"Forgive me, Warrioress," he said, bowing his head.

"What shall I be forgiving you for?" I asked him, trying to maintain the shadow of my smile.

"For keeping my eyes upon you," he replied.

Why would he apologize for such a thing?

"No need in apologizing for what every man's eye has enjoyed, Warrior," I told him. My attempt to convince him of my well-known beauty seemed to humor him. He stifled a snicker. "Are ye ill, Warrior?" I asked.

"Nay," he replied, shaking his head. "A beauty you are, though, Goddess, a beauty you are." Had I not known better, I would have thought his face wore a smile. Surely we were both going mad in the sun.

I laughed. "No Goddess am I, Leucetios," I told him.

"Sometimes a Goddess is nay described by her Status, but rather by her being," he said. He paused, letting those words settle within my brain. He closed the space between us swiftly. "Has _this_ Goddess ever been touched by a man?" he asked me. What exactly was he asking me?

"Only those who attempted to murder me," I told him, my lips half-curled.

"I dunna have intentions to be murdering you today, lassie," he told me, showing a skeleton of a laugh at my expense. _Lassie?_ No doubt the sun had made him ill. No man (nor woman) had called me a lassie since my youngest of years, before my Warrioress training had begun. He could tell his reference to me had been offending. "Perhaps I could lay my hand upon you, _Maiden_," he said. He seemed to want to strike me when my defenses already were heightened. I suppose it seemed so obvious to him that no man had ever bedded me. He seemed very rakish as this conversation ensued. Looking at him, though, I could not render any reason as to why a woman would turn away from his gaze. At that moment, I wanted what he offered. I wanted the Warrior's hands upon my skin.

He stepped nearer, falling gently down onto his knees to even himself with my height. The wind blew gently, forcing his scent down my nose. It heightened his presence next to me. It made my senses roar in response. His eyes locked upon mine.

"Your skin has entranced me," he told me.

"My skin?" I replied. "So does any woman who reveals her skin to you receive your touch?" I asked.

He shook his head, this time not hiding his amusement at my response. "Your skin….it is so much like that of a Goddess, it makes it difficult for me to believe you were fashioned to be a Warrioress."

"Is a Warrioress not usually a female of beauty?"

"Of strength and power, aye. Not always of beauty," he replied. "I've laid eyes upon my share of Warrioressess," he added.

"Aye, but have you have never touched a Warrior of beauty," I said.

He shook his head in acknowledgement


End file.
